The Demon Boy King
by Kadge Rose-Feather
Summary: AU in which Sam is a half demon. Starts very early; Weechesters.


_**Kadge Rose-Feather**_

**2014**

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><p><strong>Yellow Eyes Make Dean A Very Scared Little Boy<strong>

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><p><em>AU in which Azazel (yellow eyes) impregnated the women to give the kids their powers, although he developed a soft spot for Mary when he made the deal with her ten years ago, that he'd be able to enter her house, only to check up on her son. Although over time, he changed his mind, and he wanted Mary and Sam to join him, revealing to Mary that Sam was his son and that he'd used a glamour to conceal him as John so that he could impregnate her. Mary, having been a hunter for most of her life, was obviously shocked and outraged, and threw the salt (that she always kept in the nursery) in Azazel's face, and moved as if to grab her child and run. As soon as Azazel knew that Mary wouldn't come with him, he got incredibly angry and took on a very 'if I can't have you, no one can' mentality, burning poor Mary on the ceiling. Afterwards, he fled, leaving Sam to whatever fate would come, he couldn't care less.<em>

_For the sake of this story, half human half demon children are reasonably special but are not labelled as "anti-christs"_

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><p>Dean awoke to the sounds of screaming and the smell of smoke. He ran outside his bedroom, seeing his father in the hallway just before John ran into Sammy's nursery.<p>

Dean coughed into his little fist, watching as orange flames licked at the doorway. The nursery was on fire! Why would Daddy go in there? He could get hurt!

Dean ran up to the doorway to try and get a glimpse of his father, but John was already back in the hallway, a bundled up Sam cradled in his arms.

"Quick, get your brother outside, Dean, _now!_" John screamed, shoving the small, screaming child into Dean's arms. Dean was looking at the red bubbly burn over Sammy's forehead just before his father's words clicked into place and he did as he was told – running as fast as his little legs could take him.

Outside there was firemen and ambulances and Dean, tears and snot mingling on his face, ran straight up to one of the men in the ambulance-uniform, shoving his younger brother into the man's face.

"My brother got burnt, sir, you gotta help him, please!" He sniffled. The ambulance man took his younger brother gently just as some firemen ran past him and into his burning house. "My Mummy and Daddy are in there!" He wailed, turning back to the ambulance man who was examining Sammy carefully.

He turned to Dean and smiled softly, although his face still looked like it was pained. "Hey, little man, your brother is fine. Not a scratch on him, see?" He beckoned him over and Dean complied, looking at Sam's face in awe.

"But, he got burned…" He muttered, and the ambulance man took a hold of his arm softly.

"Your brother is fine, but it looks like you've got a couple of scratches yourself…" The man told Dean, and on the arm that'd been in contact with Sam's skin, there was a big red burn that surprised Dean so much that he shrieked.

The ambulance man tried to calm him down, and a couple seconds later the firemen came back out of his house, pulling along his dad, but not his mummy.

"Hey, you left my mum in there!" He screamed at them, but his voice was lost as the house that he'd lived in his entire life collapsed in on itself, flames still burning bright.

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><p><em>Five years later<em>

Sam was bored. He was tired of watching cartoons and he was hungry and their Dad hadn't returned in nearly two weeks.

"Dean, I'm hungry, can't we go get some food?" He whined, watching his older brother as he cleaned and took apart his gun.

"No, Dad said we're not allowed to leave the motel, you know that."

Sam groaned.

"But we haven't left to motel in _so_ long! Surely we can go out for a little bit? You've still got money left, right? We should just go and get some food and then maybe-"

"Sammy, I said no! Dad's gonna be back soon, anyway, you'll see."

Sam frowned, feeling anger build inside of him.

"What if Dad never comes back, huh? What if he's dead, Dean?"

He knew it was a low blow, picking on Dean's insecurities, especially when he knew Dean cleaned guns when he was nervous about their father, but he was so angry that he honestly didn't care at this point.

"How could he have died, Sammy? He's just on a business trip." Dean told him resolutely, although when he put the gun back together his fingers seemed to work a little clumsier.

Sam crossed his arms and scowled at his older brother, but he wasn't about to give up.

"I just wanna go outside, Dean, please! I'll go crazy stuck in here and I'm _really_ hungry-"

"_Sam!_ I said _no_!" Dean shouted, infuriating Sam. Before he knew what was happening, Sam was stretching a hand out at Dean and screaming and Dean went shooting off the bed and into the wall.

The way Dean looked at him then was the worst thing Sam thought could ever happen to him.

"I- I didn't mean to, Dean, we can stay inside until Dad gets back, I just got a-angry, I'm sorry, De-" Sam sniffled as he walked closer to his brother, but Dean held out a hand at him, looking terrified and wanting him to stay away.

Dean wiped at his nose and stared at the blood that came back on his hand before looking back at is younger brother, bewildered.

"Y-your eyes, Sammy, th-they flashed _yellow_…" He whispered, pushing himself off the floor and waddling over to his sobbing younger brother.

Dean pulled him into a tight embrace with all the ferocious protectiveness that he'd learned over the last years.

"You can _never_ show Dad this, Sammy, no matter how angry you get, you gotta promise me, that, okay? Do you promise?" Dean asked, pulling back to look into Sammy's now green-again eyes.

Sam nodded, tears still streaming down his face.

Dean pulled away, shaky.

"Good. We'll order a pizza, then." He told Sam.

But John arrived before the pizza did.

Dean ended up getting in trouble because he couldn't convince their father that he'd fallen inside the motel room and gotten hurt – John kept thinking that they'd gone outside, and Sammy promised himself he'd try hard never to let Dean get in trouble for things that were his fault ever again.

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><p><em>Three years later<em>

"Is Dad going to come back for Christmas?" Sam asked sadly, looking at Dean.

"You know he'll try his best Sammy, but he's got lots of work business to take care of so he might not be able to…"

Sam, pouting, ran over to his bed and pulled out John's hunting journal, showing it off proudly to Dean.

"I know what he does, Dean, I know he hunts monsters down and kills them." Sam stated, not moving his eyes away from Deans.

Dean sighed, taking the book off of his brother.

"Fine, okay. That's the kind of business Dad is in. He saves people and hunts monsters." He beckoned for Sam to come sit next to him on the couch. "But he's going to come back, as he always does, and you know why?"

"Why?" Sammy asked, looking up into his brothers eyes.

"Because he's the best hunter there is, that's why. He's never going to get hurt by any monsters."

Sammy seemed to take a moment to soak this in. "Promise?"

"I promise." Dean uttered ceremoniously, smiling.

"Hey, Dean…" Sam said, his voice suddenly smaller.

"Yeah?" Dean prompted, not liking the tone of his brother's voice.

"Would Dad ever… Hurt _me_?"

Dean was shocked. How could his little brother even think such things?

"No, of course not! Why would he do that?" Dean asked, horrified.

"Because, I can do things… Like the monsters can…" Sam muttered, now looking anywhere _but_ his brother's eyes.

"Sammy, look at me." His brother obeyed. "No one is _ever_ gonna hurt you while I am around. Okay? And just because you can do some things like the monsters, doesn't mean you are one. You're my brother, and that's it."

Sam really liked the sound of his brother's firm voice. He nodded, smiling.

Dean made him feel safe.

"Now, you better get to sleep or Santa Claus won't come." Dean told him, and Sam rolled his eyes.

"Dean, I already know that Santa isn't real…" He murmured, but yawned mid-sentence, and let his brother lead him to his bed.

Sam awoke the next morning to Dean shoving him awake.

"Sam, look! Santa came!" He whispered, and Sam hopped out of bed, a hopeful look on his face.

But when he looked around the drab motel room all he could see was a dull, mostly-leafless tree sparingly decorated with Christmassy ornaments and a couple haphazardly wrapped gifts placed underneath it.

It was nothing like the ads he saw on TV, where the family would sit by the fireplace with their stockings hung up and their massive Cedar tree decorated elegantly with tinsel and ornaments, an abundance of presents wrapped neatly underneath its branches.

But Sam turned back to his brother with a massive smile on his face nonetheless, because although it wasn't his dream and it definitely wasn't "Santa Claus", it was Dean and it was the bags under his eyes and the scrapes on his arms and knees, and Sam embraced his brother.

When he pulled back, he paused, looking around the motel room once again.

"Is Dad back?" He asked, and Dean rubbed the back of his neck sorely.

"No, but aren't you gonna open your presents?" Dean asked, desperately trying to change the subject.

Sam smiled and sat on the dingy old couch as Dean brought over the two gifts.

He unopened them to find, a bag of chips and a tin filled with toy soldiers.

"Do you like it?" He asked warily, searching Sam's face.

"I love it." He responded, pulling his older brother into a hug. He didn't know what Dean went through to get this stuff, but he thought he better not ask, as his brother looked roughed up.

"Oh, I've got something for you too!" Sam said suddenly, rushing over to pull the little parcel out from under his pillow.

He'd got it from Bobby last time they stayed there, and had been waiting for the right time to give it to their Dad, but since their father wouldn't even come home for Christmas, Sam thought he should give it to his brother instead.

"Merry Christmas, Dean." He said, deciding not to mention that he hadn't originally intended for the amulet to be given to his brother.

The happiness on Dean's face when he looked at his gift made Sam smile too.

"Thanks, Sammy, I love it!" He declared, putting it on immediately.

They watched cartoons and ate cereal for the rest of the day, Sam sharing his bag of chips with Dean.

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><p>"This isn't a discussion, Sam, you're coming." Their father stated authoritatively, packing the weapons into a rucksack.<p>

Sam was furious, brow furrowed.

"But it's worth twenty-five percent of my grade, Dad!" He argued, glaring his father down.

"Sam, I'm sure you'll do fine without studying-" Dean tried to settle his younger brother down, as when Sam got angry it made Dean nervous, but Sam just shook him off.

Their dad turned around and pinned his gaze on his younger son.

"What's more important, Sam, Science tests or saving people's lives?"

"School is important, too, Dad! I'm not like you and Dean- I don't want to do this for the rest of my life and if I fail at school I'll be stuck with no other options- I don't want that!" Sam shouted, tears of frustration leaking from his eyes.

"I'll hear no more of this, Sam! You're coming, and that's an order." John said, frustrated, latching on to his youngest son's arm and attempting to drag him outside but as he tugged, Dean screaming out "Dad, don't!" Sam let out an ear-piercing shriek and suddenly both John and Dean were flung backwards into the walls of the motel as a tremor ripped its way across the floor like a short-lived earthquake.

Dean jumped up as fast as he was knocked down, wiping blood away from his nose, he ran over to comfort his now-crying younger sibling before glaring protectively at their perturbed father, as if waiting to gauge his reaction.

"Sammy, it's okay, it's okay now…" He cooed, his youthful eyes never leaving John's terrified ones.

Finally, John stood, slowly, wiping his hands on his jeans and walking over to his boys.

He looked down at his youngest, snot and tears mingling on Sam's chin, and spoke in a very solemn voice.

"We will never speak of this again, and Sam," he paused to raise his hand is if to strike his son, but looking at Dean he cringed, and he leaned down to wipe the tears away instead. "This will never happen again. Do I make myself clear?"

Sam nodded frantically, wiping at his eyes like the young boy he still was.

"You can stay here with Dean." He told his son briefly before grabbing his bag and leaving the motel room.

No lecture on lock-up procedures, no going over the emergency contacts and stashes, just taking his bag and whipping out of the door.

They could hear his car pull away a couple of seconds later, and only then did Sam start sobbing fully.

Dean just dragged him over to one of the scroungy beds and held him tightly, stroking his hair and whispering reassurances in his younger brother's ear.

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><p><strong>Probably won't be writing anymore unless anyone has any really good ideas on how to continue or I get hit with some random inspiration?<strong>


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